Candlelight
by faery-folk
Summary: Captain EO fic. "And for him, one hundred years of torture in my deepest dungeon!"


Only 95 years to go. Maybe less, hopefully not more. It's not like I would live to see all one hundred years of endless torture I've been subjected to. And on top of that, I have a small chance of seeing only ten years.

It's been difficult for me this past year. Most of the time, I'm being tortured in one way or another. It seems like the supreme leader has developed a liking for beatings over normal torture devices. Like the objects that line the walls. That must be better, right? I used to think so. And every other hour of the day, I'm locked in a tiny, dark cell, tired and almost completely starving. It's not something I would want to do for the rest of my life, but I really don't have another choice. Well, there's always… death, but I don't like to think about that. I still have a chance, right?

Well, that's not entirely true. I mean, it's hard to stand up and it's even harder to keep myself from running into things in the dark. And on top of that, sleeping on a cold, hard floor really isn't a good idea for a first choice. But there is one thing I still have. This one, small thing that makes things just a little brighter.

I took a candle off its place on the wall a few days ago. I've been able to keep it lit for a while. It also helps to make this little place a little warmer. Thankfully, no one's spotted it yet. I'm hoping it'll last long enough for me to find another candle, but that might just be getting my hopes up. I learned long ago that that's never a good idea.

For the entire first year, I was completely certain I would be rescued. People would wonder where I am and try to find me. I'll be out of here in no time. But after some time, I started to wonder. _Maybe they just got lost…_

The second year passed by completely uneventful. I was still half-convinced they would find me. It might be difficult. Only so many people have been to this planet. What is this place called, anyway? I've almost forgotten where I am. Or what brought me here. _What happened to everyone?_

In the third year, I was completely overcome by a sense of panic. Where was everyone? The only people I ever saw were hardly there. Their faces were covered and I could only feel their hands gripping my arms, dragging me to another torture session. On rare occasions, I could hear someone's voice, but most of the time it was just screaming or words I can't make out. Although I knew the supreme leader was watching, I'd never seen her. I was completely cut off from the rest of the universe, it seemed. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even see straight eventually. Everything here is so dark; you can't tell the difference between the walls and the floors sometimes. _What's happening to me?_

The fourth year went by in the blink of an eye. I can't recall anything from then. All I know is that I'm never getting out of here. _This is home now._

And now, I'm here at the end of the fifth year. Slowly but surely, I've been able to learn how things work here. I tell the time by watching the people that occasionally pass by to get other prisoners, and the times I've taken to torture.

My candle continues to flicker in the dim cell. My eyes dart around the small space in the hallway the window on my door allowed me to see, making sure no one was there. I couldn't let this candle get taken away from me. The one thing that reminds me of my old life. The one thing that makes everything a little bit better. The one thing that gives me hope.

"What is that?" I hear one of the guards say. I look up to see them looking at me.

_No._

"Well? What is it?"

I try to speak, but I can't seem to make my mouth form words anymore. I haven't had to speak in years. I've hardly heard anyone say more than two words to me. The guard grabs me by the arm forcefully, lifting me off the ground.

"We'll just see what the supreme leader says about this."

And with that, the candle is blown out. I'm dragged from my room down the same old hallway for what I know will be the last time. I don't even notice the other people following us. All I know is that there isn't much hope left for me. Even if they make it, I know I won't.

My candle was blown out a long time ago.


End file.
